A Selfish Hero
by Bobapearl
Summary: There was no denying how she felt for him. Just one look at her face was obvious, but regardless of how much she loved him, she couldn't sit idly by and let him live in his delusion. It was time to set him straight, no matter the pain it would cause him.


Hi everyone! This is my very first fanfic for Arrow. I absolutely love this show and am even more in love with Olicity. This is my take on the kind of conversation Felicity and Oliver will have after the explosive ending of the Season 3 Premiere. Needless to say, SPOILER ALERT! Please read and review!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow or any of its characters.**

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><p>"Oliver?"<p>

Synchronized grunts answered her tentative call. She carefully made her way down the metal stairs of the foundry, her heels clicking against each step as she approached the main floor. If it had been any other day, Felicity would have stopped at the bottom step and enjoyed the view of her favorite hero training away. She would have enjoyed watching the way his muscles rippled with each fluid punch and kick he perfectly executed. She would have blushed heavily at the sight of sweat dripping down his sculpted chest and forearms. She would have expectantly waited for him to turn around and flash a knowing smile in her direction that would have set her heart into overdrive, forcing her to prattle on about how she wasn't staring at his beautifully toned physique at all.

No, this time was different. This time, Felicity couldn't even muster a quick quirk of her lips. She could only watch solemnly as Oliver pounded away at the wooden structure, his eyes riveted on his target, his jaw clenched in frustration, and his shoulders coiled with tension.

"Oliver?"

He stopped mid-punch. Slowly straightening his back, he glanced over his shoulder and asked in a lifeless tone, "What are you doing here?"

"I called you a bunch of times on your cell phone and you didn't answer. I was getting worried."

"It's alright. I'm fine."

"Are you?"

Oliver looked back at the column and firmly pressed his fist against the sturdy, dark wood. "Yeah."

"You don't look fine," Felicity noted as she stepped closer. Sliding out of her heels, she stepped barefoot onto the stiff rubber mat until she stood a few feet behind him. "Actually, you like you're falling apart."

He exhaled deeply. "Felicity, I told you, I'm f—" Oliver's retort fell short as he caught the desperate look in her blue eyes. Normally, he would have reached out a hand and cupped her delicate cheek as a way to reassure her that he was fine. He wouldn't have hesitated to soak in her warmth as a way to soothe his pain and alleviate her genuine concern. But he couldn't do that to her. Not again. So instead, he gave her his back and muttered in a tight voice, "Go home, Felicity."

"Why? So you can suffer on your own?"

"I'm not suffering."

"Oliver, Sara's death—"

"This isn't about Sara."

"Don't lie to me!"

Oliver walked away from her and grabbed a towel from off the desk. Wiping the sweat off of his neck, he waited for his frustration and anger to subside even as they continued to burn a hole in his gut. His hands shook with the need to do something—ANYTHING—to relieve the pressure surging within him.

Felicity bit down on her lower lip. She could already see the walls Oliver was raising around him. Just like with Tommy's and Moira's death, this was the only way he knew how to deal. So accustomed to being alone and keeping to himself, Oliver refused to let anyone in. But Felicity wasn't just anyone. Even though their relationship was confusing and frustrating as hell, she was confident that Oliver trusted her. Even though she would probably have to push him into a corner to get him to open up, he could and _will_ confide in her.

So steeling herself for an inevitable uphill battle, she stood right in front of him and blocked his path until she basically had to stare up into his eyes to maintain eye contact. "Sara's death isn't your fault," she stated as firmly as possible.

He turned away from her.

"Oliver!" Felicity grabbed his face with both hands and yanked it back down. "It wasn't your fault."

"That doesn't relieve my guilt, Felicity."

"What could you have done?" she argued exasperatedly. "You didn't know anything! How could you have possibly saved her?"

Oliver shook his head and averted his gaze.

"Oliver, Sara led a life just as dangerous as the one you are leading now, but regardless, it is one that is wholly separate from your own. Just because you know her does not mean you are somehow at fault for her death."

He looked down at Felicity's pleading expression, but could feel no consolation at her words.

Felicity stepped back in defeat at the empty look in his eyes. Her arms fell limply to her sides as she stared down at the floor, begging for the tears not to stream down her face. "Why do you do this?" she whispered. "Why are you always looking for some reason to blame yourself? Sometimes, Oliver, I wonder if it's life that's keeping you from being happy or if it's actually just you."

"Felicity…"

She met his surprised gaze with a hard one of her own. "I'm not saying you can't mourn Sara's death. I'm not saying that you can't be angry, frustrated, or pissed at whoever had done this to her. I am too, Oliver. But what I _am_ saying is that I'm sick and tired of you using the misfortune of the people around you as a way to justify your own selfish choices."

Fueled by her tirade but unable to look at him for a second longer, she turned around and made her way towards the exit. She needed to get air, space, anything to be away from him. But just as she was about to angle one foot inside of her red heels, he suddenly grasped her upper arm and turned her body around to face him.

"What?" she asked indifferently.

"What did you mean by that?" Oliver demanded, traces of anger etched into the hard planes of his face.

"The always blaming yourself or the selfish justification part?"

He set his jaw. "All of it."

"Why exactly are you upset, Oliver?"

"What?"

"Why are you upset?" Felicity demanded again. "Is it because Sara's gone or is it because you felt that you could have done something, but didn't?"

He didn't reply.

"Alright, let me put me this in another way: are you grieving over the fact that Sara is never coming back or are you too focused on the ludicrous idea of it being your fault that you can't even think about the fact that she's actually dead?"

Oliver blinked in surprise, but continued to remain silent.

"It's the latter, isn't it?" Felicity pressed, her voice wavering with emotion. Shaking her arm out of his now weak grasp, she took a couple of steps back from him and asked, "Do you even see how warped this is, Oliver? Do you see how demented all of this is? Instead of just thinking about Sara's death, instead of just mourning her passing like everybody else, you're consumed with only thoughts of yourself. You can't even grieve because all you can do is assign blame! Even after everything that has happened, you're still only focused on you!"

"But who am I kidding," Felicity laughed coldly, her vision blurring by the second, "everything has to be about you, doesn't it, Oliver? Every scratch, every injury, every death in this whole _damn_ city are all linked back to you, right? I mean, how could they not? You're the vigilante. Everybody's fate lies in the palm of your hand. Even when you have no way of predicting every attack on the city, even when you're obviously human, we _must_ be expecting that of you, right? Everything has to be your fault because you're the _goddamn_ hero! Who cares if you're unhappy? Who cares that you're still just a regular person underneath the green mask and hood? Who cares that the people around you are worried sick at how self-deprecating you are?"

Oliver reached out for her. "Felicity—"

"NO!" Felicity cried as she roughly shoved his hands away. "I'm done with your excuses! I'm done listening to you use every misfortune as a way to push people away! I miss Sara just as much as you do, Oliver, but I refuse to let her death be another one of your pathetic reasons as to why you don't deserve a normal life like the rest of us!"

Then just like that, Felicity fell apart. She cried into her open hands like she had never cried before. The weight of his suffering, her anger at his stubbornness, and the helplessness of being in love with someone so far away rained heavy upon her shoulders. She didn't know how to silence her tears. She didn't know how to recover. She could only cry.

Felicity hiccupped when she felt his strong arms wrap around her. She bit back her angry retort when he cupped the back of her head and gently cradled her face against the curvature of his neck. She squeezed her eyes shut when her heart fluttered with recognition that this was the embrace of the man she had wanted ever since she had set eyes on him in Queen Consolidated. Why was life so cruel?

"I'm sorry, Felicity," he murmured. "I didn't…" Oliver sighed heavily. "I never meant to hurt you."

She shook her head. "This isn't about us, Oliver. I'm not trying to make this about us, I just—" Felicity caved into leaning her weak form against him. "Why can't you see that you've punished yourself enough?"

"I'm not punishing myself. I'm just trying to avoid hurting the people I care about as a result of my selfish choices."

"And there's the irony of it all," Felicity sniffed as she gazed up into his tormented eyes. "You're taking every tragedy you see and selfishly morphing it into your own. Bad things happen to good people, Oliver. But just because you're the hero, doesn't mean you have to save us from them all."

But before he could come up with any sort of reply, her cell phone rang.

She reached into her coat pocket and saw the words RAY PALMER flash on screen. Stepping back from Oliver, she held the device to her ear and murmured, "Hello? No, I'm not home. Why? Is everything alright?" Felicity switched the phone to her other ear. "Right now? Yeah, I can be there…just give me a few minutes. Okay…I'll meet you there." She sighed and ended the call with a quick swipe of the screen.

"What's going on?"

"Computer issues at the company. Ray asked me to check it out. We have a huge presentation tomorrow and it'll be best to deal with it before the investors come."

"It's late. Should you really—?"

Felicity smiled weakly. "I'll be fine. Besides, you were begging me to leave just moments ago, right?"

_Not to be with Ray…_

But Oliver let out a stiff smile and shook his head. "I don't really want you to go."

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't," she mumbled quietly.

And just like that, the room suddenly shrunk ten times too small. The close proximity of her sweet vanilla scent wrapped around him like a tight coil. Oliver could still feel her lips pressed against his neck. He had such an urge to touch that very spot, but forced his hand to stay still. Oliver watched her delicately put on her heels and retighten the pony tail he always loved to tug on, just to see her playfully glare up at him.

"Oliver."

His vision refocused as he saw Felicity standing right in front of him. Then in her usual show of kindness, she tenderly looped her arms around his neck and held him close.

Unable to hold back, he placed both of his hands upon the small of her back and pressed her slender body to his own, as a desperate attempt to keep her there.

"I'm sorry about Sara," she murmured softly.

He nodded, feeling despair clutch at his throat.

Leaning back, she ran the back of her hand across his tight jaw until it finally relaxed. She showed him a small smile before replacing a comfortable distance between them. "Don't stay here too long, okay? You're going to need all of your strength to find the bastard."

"Did you always talk like such a sailor?" he joked lightly.

Felicity winked. "It's the only way to keep up with you and John."

Then with one last smile and a murmur of good night, she turned around and made her way back up the metal stairs.

Her disappearance was instantly tangible, as if all of the warmth was sucked out of the room. Oliver looked around and felt the loneliness creep up his throat. His thoughts instantly crept back to Sara, imagining her death over and over again in his mind. He couldn't forget how she had died alone, never finding the solace of lowering her stone-cold walls freely. Even Oliver still found it hard to do. But Felicity…

He looked up at the stairs. She didn't just see past his walls; she knocked them all down with her stubborn will to save him.

Oliver had pushed her away when she had openly embraced him.

He was the one who told her he couldn't be with her because of the risky life he led.

But was she right?

Was it really just another poorly disguised excuse to be selfish once again?

Raising his fingers to his neck, he touched the place where her lips had kissed his skin. His heart pounded painfully against his ribcage at the thought of her drifting farther and farther away.

Sara's death made it all too clear that the world was dangerous, that there were bad people out there determined to hurt the good. But instead of pushing the ones he loved away, why not hold them closer? Why not keep them by his side so that he could do what he had always wanted to do from the start: protect them like the hero they know him to be…


End file.
